


Mo Chuisle

by Floral_and_Fine



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), The Boondock Saints RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26539897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Floral_and_Fine/pseuds/Floral_and_Fine
Summary: *Mo Chuisle- Irish Gaelic for My PulseThe reader cares for the Macmanus twins after they return to their apartment injured.
Relationships: Connor MacManus/You, Murphy MacManus/You
Kudos: 12





	Mo Chuisle

**Author's Note:**

> Had a lot of fun writing this fic! Hope to write more soon!

Y/n bit her nail, watching the seconds slowly tick by as she waited for the MacManus brothers to return home. 

Sitting on the small table in front of her were bottles of rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, painkillers, needle and thread, and in the freezer were several ice packs ready to go. 

Y/n never knew what kind of shape they’d be in once they were done working. So she was always prepared for the worst. She didn’t have any professional training by any means, but she had picked up some basics when she learned what the twins did. 

Since then, she had sort of taken it upon herself to watch over them, at least in her own small way, doing things like taking care of their injuries, bringing them home-cooked meals, and even covering for them by being their alibi on several occasions. 

Getting up, y/n started to pace, there wasn’t anything around to distract her. The brothers’ apartment was sparse, to say the least, not many belongings or furniture, just the bare minimum. 

Absentmindedly, her fingers began to play with the cross hanging from her necklace, sliding it back and forth against the thin chain. She rubbed her index finger and thumb along the center, feeling the grooves and edges of the engraving. 

The necklace had been a gift from the boys as a thank you after the first time she cared for them. 

She laughed lightly to herself, they had been so excited to give it to her, showing up at her door first thing in the morning. 

_“Mornin’ love,” Connor greeted, he was full of energy, practically bouncing with excitement. While y/n was still rubbing the sleep from eyes and wondering why the hell they were here so damn early._

_“We got you a little something,” Murphy explained, smiling proudly as he pulled a necklace out from his jacket pocket._

_She blinked in surprise looking at the sparkling gold chain that Murphy was dangling in front of her. He dropped it in her cupped hand. She took a moment to look at it, noticing the small engraving._

_Her brows furrowed, not recognizing the phrase. ‘mo chuisle’_

_“C’mon now,” Connor urged. “Try it on.”_

_Y/n struggled with the clasp, her fingers having trouble manipulating the tiny parts._

_“Here, allow me,” Murphy offered._

_She turned around so her back was facing him, Murphy fingers tickled her neck as he took the two ends and securely clasped the necklace._

_“Looks good on ya,” Connor said approvingly as she turned and faced him._

_“Thank you,” y/n replied, getting teary-eyed. “I really appreciate it, but you guys didn’t have to get me anything.”_

_“It was nothin’,” Murphy shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets. “You saved our asses the other night.”_

_“We’re just buttering you up, hoping you’ll stick around,” Connor winked._

Since then y/n’s worn it every day. It was her connection to them, keeping them close to her heart and on her mind. 

Her eyes snapped to the door when she heard footsteps approaching. Rushing to it, y/n threw the door open and breathed a sigh of relief when she saw both Connor and Murphy standing there in one piece. 

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around them but pulled back immediately when they both hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” she stammered, clutching her hands to her chest.

Getting a better look at them, y/n noticed that Murphy had a black eye that was already swelling and Connor’s lip was busted and bloody. Quickly, she ushered them inside, Murphy used Connor for support as he limped into the apartment. 

Y/n instructed them both to take their seats on the couch, and grabbed an ice pack from the freezer and wrapped it in a soft hand towel. 

“Here,” she muttered, gently holding the ice pack against Murphy’s face. 

“Thanks, love,” Murphy smiled, his fingers grazing over the back of your hand, as he held the ice pack in place.

Snagging one of the pillows off the closest bed, y/n placed it on the edge of the coffee table. Kneeling down, she undid the laces of his boot and took it off. 

“Put your foot up,” she ordered him, before wandering over to the other side of the couch. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

Sitting on the table, y/n leaned forward and gently started to wipe the dry blood from Connor’s chin and bottom lip. His eyes studied her face, admiring her as she worked. She was always careful, each touch was delicate and gentle, working slowly to avoid causing them more pain. 

“This is going to sting,” y/n warned, wetting a clean washcloth with rubbing alcohol. He winced as she started to apply it to his cut. Leaning in, she gently blew air against the cut to help with the pain. 

“That’s better,” she murmured, now that his face wasn’t all bloodied anymore. 

Connor hummed closing his eyes, “you’re too good to us, lass.”

She shook her head, “I’m happy to do it, now let me see your hand.”

He chuckled, putting his hand in both of hers. Her thumb caressed his rough and bloody knuckles before she started to clean them off. 

Gently, she wrapped a bandage around Connor’s hand and replaced the cap on the rubbing alcohol, before getting up and going to the fridge. 

“So what exactly happened tonight?” She questioned, pulling out a couple of beers, removed the bottle caps.

The brothers gave each other a sideways glance.

“Why don’t you start it off,” Murphy smiled, patting Connor’s chest. 

Y/n handed them each a beer and gave Connor her full attention as she sat between them on the couch.

“Well…” he began, licking his lips and sighing. “It all started with us busting the door open to the warehouse. The poor fucks didn’t know what to do.”

“Yeah, Connor and I withdrew our guns, and started shooting up the place,” Murphy added, while he imitated how with both arms out as he pretended to fire imaginary guns.

“We thought we had taken care of them all,” Connor nodded, taking a sip of his beer. “until this beast of a man came hurling at us out of nowhere,” he explained. “He must’ve been at least 7 foot, a real gigantic bastard.”

“Tackled me down,” Murphy butted in. “Gave me this shiner.” He pointed to his bruised up eye.

“So that’s when I leapt onto the bastard’s back and just started wailing on him,” Connor continued. “But he wouldn’t let up. Got me good with his elbow, too.” He gestured to his lip. 

“Then, I reached out grabbing a brick, and I just bashed the fucker’s head in,” Murphy emphasized the point by reenacting how.

“Yeah and as we were trying to push the dead bastard off of him, this tiny man with crazy eyes sprung out from behind the crates,” Connor lifted up his shirt a bit, revealing the massive bruise on his side. “Whacked me a good one with a wood pallet.” 

Y/n winced looking at the red blotch that was already turning purple. 

“And while Connor was moaning on the floor,” Murphy recalled, nudging y/n. “I wrestled that little shit down-”

“Oh come off it,” Connor interrupted. “He tripped you and you fell on top of him… Wrestled my ass… pfft.”

“I’m just glad you're both alright,” she said, patting both of their knees. “Now let’s get you, boys, to bed.”

“You’re staying the night, right?” Murphy asked as he started limping over to his bed. 

“Of course I am,” she said smiling. “My work isn’t nearly done.”

Murphy smiled back, pleased that she was going to be sticking around. “We owe you one, love, drinks on us tomorrow at doc’s.” He suddenly lost his footing as the room started to spin, catching himself on the edge of the bed. 

“Murphy,” y/n rushed over to his side, and Connor right behind her. 

“Shit,” he muttered, rubbing his head. “My head is fucking killing me.”

Connor and y/n helped Murphy into his bed. Y/n sat next to him, gently stroking his hair back. 

“I think he might have a concussion,” she explained.

“What?” Connor’s face fell. “Really?”

Y/n looked at him and nodded. 

“Fuck,” he sighed, kneeling beside Murphy’s bed. “Sorry about that.”

Murphy snorted, “will you two get ahold of yourselves! I’m not dying!” He sat up a little. “Hell, you’re making a bigger deal of this than the time I was shot!”

“Hey, we both got shot that day,” Connor argued. 

Y/n laughed, “I recall being just as worried then as I am right now! I worry about the two of you every day.”

They both looked up at her with puppy dog eyes, “Sorry, we don’t mean to make you worry.”

“It’s alright,” she kissed Murphy on the forehead, then Connor. “At least I get to help.” Getting up, she wandered over to the table and started cleaning up.

Once she was out of earshot, Murphy leaned in closer to Connor. “I’ll be getting you back for this,” he whispered, looking Connor right in the eye. 

Connor rolled his eyes, “please, you’re loving all this attention.”

…

Earlier that night…

Once the dust had settled, both Connor and Murphy simultaneously started to check themselves for injuries. 

The scene around them looked as though a tornado made of bullets had swept through. Several Bodies were lying dead on the floor in puddles of their own blood. Guns were scattered on the ground along with empty bullet shells. 

“You alright?” Connor asked, patting his chest and arms checking for any wounds.

“Yeah, I think so,” Murphy replied, extending arms out and examining himself carefully. There wasn’t a single scratch anywhere. “You?”

“I’m… good,” Connor said clearly surprised but pleased.

Both of them were wondering the same thing, how the hell did they survive that mess? They both turned around and looked behind them, the wall was littered with bullet holes, probably about a hundred of them.

Connor started to laugh, causing Murphy to laugh as well. “How the fuck did we survive that?” He breathed gesturing to the wall. 

“Hell if I know,” Murphy sighed, crouching down and resting his elbows on his knees. “They must’ve unloaded every single round they had between them.”

“Even by chance one of us should’ve been hit,” Connor reasoned. Usually, by the end of the night, they’d both be a little scuffed up at least. 

Murphy shrugged, “Guess we oughta be leaving.”

Connor narrowed his eyes as something dawned on him, and grabbed his brother’s arm. “Hit me.”

“What?” Murphy asked, backing away. 

“Hit me,” Connor repeated. 

Murphy furrowed his brow, “What for?”

Connor smirked. “Would be a shame if y/n ended up leaving early for the night,” he explained. “Should at least make her feel like she’s needed.”

Neither brother would ever admit it out loud, but they were rather fond of y/n’s doting, like how she’d fuss over every little cut, and catered to them, not letting either brother lift a finger while she was around. Sometimes, she would even go as far as spending the night and even the next day with them, if necessary. Those were the best days, getting to have her all to themselves for the whole day.

Murphy chuckled, “Ah, I see now, so we’re doing this for her sake?”

“Exactly,” Connor winked, clapping his brother’s shoulder.

“We do owe it to her,” Murphy nodded. “Wouldn’t want her feeling like she’s wasted her time.”

Connor took a step back and braced himself. Without hesitation, Murphy’s fist connected to his jaw successfully busting his lip. Connor stumbled back, and shook his head, spitting out a bit of blood. 

“Alright,” Connor smiled, wiping his chin with his sleeve. “Your turn.”


End file.
